"One must always dare," he answered, smilingly. "May I 'dare' to ask you to accept one from me?" He got up from the table and left the room, being absent for a few minutes. When the door opened again we saw the King standing outside, trying to carry a large picture. His Majesty had gone up to the room in which the picture hung, and the servant who had taken it from the wall brought it to the door of the dining-room, whence the King carried it in himself. The mark of the dusty cord still showed on his shoulder. It was a life-size portrait of himself painted in oil. He said, "Will you accept this?" I could not believe my ears. This for me! I hesitated. The Queen said, "My dear, you must take it, since the King desires it." "But," I replied, "how can I?" Her Majesty answered, "Your husband would not like you to refuse. Take it!--_you must!_" and added, "The ribbon [the blue Order of the Elephant] is beautifully painted"--as if the rest were not! The Princess Thyra said, "Papa has only had six portraits painted of himself. This one is painted by Mr. Shytte. I don't think that it is half handsome enough for papa. Do you?" "Well," said the King, "I shall have it sent to your hotel." I could not thank his Majesty enough, and I am sure I looked as embarrassed as I felt. As we were going away the next day, this was my last visit to the Queen. On bidding me good-by she pressed something into my hand and said, "You leave me so many _souvenirs_! I have only one for you, and here it is." It was a lovely locket of turquoises. On opening it I found the Queen's portrait on one side and the Princess Thyra's on the other. She kissed me, and I kissed her hand, with tears in my eyes. We return to Björnemose to bid our parents good-by; then farewell to Denmark. We leave in four days for New York. WASHINGTON, _February, 1879_. Dear Mother,--Monsieur de Schlözer is one of the colleagues whom we like best. I wish you knew him! I do not know anything more delightful than to see him and Carl Schurz together. They are not unlike in character; they are both witty, refined, always seeing the beautiful in everything, almost boyish in their enthusiasm, and clever, _cela va sans dire_, to their finger-tips. They bring each other out, and they both appear at their best, which is saying a great deal. We consider that we are fortunate to number them among our _intimes_. Would it interest you to know how these _intimes_ amuse themselves? Life is so simple in Washington, and there are so few distractions outside of society, that we only have our social pleasures to take the place of theaters and public entertainments. It is unlike Paris and other capitals in this respect.